


Cooking

by Blackghost7



Category: NCIS
Genre: First Time, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 04:06:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4549785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackghost7/pseuds/Blackghost7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Is this… is this a… date?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cooking

Gibbs allowed himself a small quirk of lips when he heard Tony chuckle again. 

Another case gone wild, another chase ended in bloodshed, and Tony was once again on his couch, a startlingly white patch of bandage covering the wound to the side of his head, his mind slightly dazed from the painkillers. Tony had been there for three days by now, relatively happily ensconced on Gibbs' couch, drifting in and out of a doze while his laptop played some kind of show which Tony grinned at from time to time. Every time he walked by, from kitchen to basement to bathroom, Gibbs threw a glance at the screen, wondering what Tony was watching and laughing at. It didn't look like a comedy. After getting two glasses of water from the kitchen, Gibbs at last dropped himself carefully onto the couch next to Tony and handed him one of the glasses.

"What the hell are you watching?"

"Thanks, Boss," Tony said in acknowledgement of the drink. "Netflix."

"What?"

"It's… Never mind."

"Looks like he's cooking."

Tony rolled his head - leaned back on the back of the couch - in Gibbs' direction, and grinned at him.

"Very good, Boss. That must be why you're such a great agent."

Mindful of Tony's head injury, Gibbs lightly smacked Tony's thigh in admonishment. Tony grinned wider.

"It's called 'Raymond Blanc's Kitchen Secrets'. It's a British cooking show."

Gibbs just watched Tony in silence for a few long seconds.

"Why… would you watch that?"

Tony smiled. 

"Because it's funny."

"Funny? It's a cooking show."

"Yeah. I don't mean 'funny' funny, it's just funny. Listen to that accent!"

Gibbs focused on the soft sounds coming from the laptop for a moment. On the screen a middle-aged man with blue eyes was cooking some kind of something, meanwhile talking to the camera, and his French accent was quite pronounced. Gibbs didn't find it funny, but he could see why Tony might think it was. But as he watched for a while longer, Gibbs noticed something else. It seemed like every two minutes or so, the man on screen exclaimed something, and that was what caused Tony to chuckle every time.

 

"Adam!"

On the screen, the man who was cooking turned and looked around expectantly. A younger man appeared through the doorway and looked at him with a blank expression.

"I don't like this spoon. Bring me another spoon, Adam!"

The younger man turned and came back seconds later with two spoons to choose from.

"Merci, Adam, mon petit."

 

The man put ingredients into a mixer and pushed the button to switch it on, but nothing happened. After checking the machine, the man discovered it was not plugged in. Holding up the plug in bewilderment, the man called again.

"Adam!"

 

Having cut pastry into portions and wrapping them up in cling film, the man again looked into the camera.

"These can be put in the fridge to rest. Adam!"

The younger man appeared immediately and took the pastry to put it into the fridge.

 

Every time the man called for Adam, Tony chuckled. But the longer Gibbs watched, the more annoyed he became. On the screen, the man kicked the stove for a joke, and a second later, Adam appeared in the background, a worried look on his face, checking to see if his boss was alright. Gibbs grunted softly, and Tony turned to look at him again. Catching Tony's look, Gibbs explained.

"That guy is an idiot."

"Raymond? He's a Michelin-starred chef!"

"Not him."

"Oh. Adam? He's Raymond's development chef. He's not an idiot, Gibbs."

"He is. The way he responds to the other guy's barking is not normal."

Tony let out a surprised and incredulous laugh.

"Really? That's really what you think?"

"Of course. That's not a normal working relationship."

Tony looked both thoughtful and sad for a moment.

"I think he respects his boss and wants to help him any way he can. I think he loves his job and wants to do his best. I think his boss means a lot to him, and he wants to be the best to make his boss proud of him. I think he loves…"

Then Tony fell silent. Just before Tony turned back to the screen, Gibbs thought Tony's look was a little pained and hurt. But then Tony carefully leaned forward and turned off the laptop, got off the couch and, without looking at Gibbs, headed towards the stairs.

"I'm tired. I think I'll go back to bed, Boss."

 

After that, the last few days of Tony's recuperation at Gibbs' place were spent pretty much in silence. The laptop played old black and white movies with the volume down, and Tony didn't chuckle any more. Gibbs admitted to himself he missed the sound. He was surprised when Tony left his house claiming he was fine a few days earlier than expected, and earlier than Ducky recommended, but knew that once Tony had made up his mind, there was no stopping him. 

 

Gibbs was steadily getting more and more annoyed. McGee and Ziva were sharp as usual whenever he called for their attention, but Tony was slow to respond. Whenever Gibbs called out his name, Tony seemed to deliberately hold himself back for a few moments before finally turning his focus to Gibbs. It was frustrating and annoying and… Gibbs missed Tony's attention to him. The only time Tony's focus turned to him immediately was when Gibbs had snuck up at him from behind and barked "DiNozzo!", but as soon as Tony had turned to him, Gibbs saw Tony wince, clearly angry at himself for something. Gibbs couldn't figure it out.

 

"Abbs, need your help with something."

"Shoot, Gibbs! Not literally, though. That would cause damage and my lab is…"

"Abbs!"

"Yes, Gibbs?"

"There's this guy named Raymond Blanc."

Abby kept looking at him steadily.

"Had a cooking show…?"

"Oh! You do mean him! I figured there would be more than one Frenchman called that, and, you know, maybe there was someone with the same name related to a case…"

"No case, Abbs."

"Oooookay….?"

"Need you to… down… whatever… those shows and give them to me."

In all the years Abby had known Gibbs, this was actually the most uncomfortable she had ever seen him. But Abby being Abby and Gibbs being Gibbs, she wasted no time in getting the shows downloaded and stored on her computer. 

"I can only put them on DVD for you, Gibbs. No VHS, sorry. You do have a DVD player, right, Gibbs?"

"Abby…"

"Right! No questions asked, no comments made. Are you going to make someone dinner or something?"

"Abbs! No comments…?"

"Of course, Gibbs. Not a problem! I'll have the DVDs for you shortly!"

Giving her a kiss to her temple, Gibbs tried to keep his cool.

"Thanks, Abbs."

"You know what's funny, Gibbs?"

Gibbs turned back to her, suppressing a sigh. A raised eyebrow told her to continue.

"I always thought Raymond and Adam were kinda like you and Tony…"

"The show, Abbs!"

"Coming up, Bossman!"

 

After a very uncomfortable trip to an electronics store - "I need something that will play these…" - Gibbs settled on his couch, the portable DVD player on the coffee table so he could see what was on the screen without his glasses. He had to admit that the Frenchman's accent was growing on him, actually finding it somewhat amusing, but he still rankled every time the man called for 'Adam!' and the younger man appeared instantly, except once when Adam hid behind the door and muttered: "I'm on my break."

He wondered why Tony had found it so funny, and why he had looked hurt when Gibbs said this Adam-guy was an idiot, but then Abby's words flashed through his mind again. 

"I always thought Raymond and Adam were kinda like you and Tony…"

Was that really what they thought of him, that he barked his orders and everyone jumped? Even before the question finished forming in his mind, he knew that was exactly what they thought, and rightfully so. He had worked hard to gain that reputation and that response, and he didn't regret it. It saved lives. But then he thought back to what Tony had said.

"I think he respects his boss and wants to help him any way he can. I think he loves his job and wants to do his best. I think his boss means a lot to him, and he wants to be the best to make his boss proud of him. I think he loves…"

And instead of what Tony had said, Gibbs focused on what he hadn't said, the part where Tony had broken off and retreated to the guest room. What had that been about? Doing what he always did when he needed to think, Gibbs went to the basement.

The repetitive action of sanding allowed him to let his mind work on the problem while his body moved instinctively. He achieved an almost meditative state, just being in the moment, and then suddenly froze.

No way.

But it was the only conclusion he could come to. Forcing himself to resume his movements and get back to that blissful feeling of just being while his mind sorted itself out, he spent a few more hours sanding. Then he put down the sander. And he smiled.

 

Tony was unnerved. Gibbs was watching him, and not with that annoyed I'm-just-waiting-for-you-to-screw-up-so-I-can-smack-you look he'd been wearing the past few weeks. There was something different about this look, and Tony was worried. Tony never liked not knowing what was going on, and that especially applied to Gibbs.

Gibbs was predictable in a way. He was surly and grouchy when they were on a case, he was a little less surly and grouchy when they closed a case and justice was done, he was surly and grouchy when he was worried about his team and asked you if you were alright, he was surly and grouchy when he was at home in his basement and you talked to him. But Gibbs didn't look or act particularly surly and grouchy when he was giving Tony that look. It was unprecedented, and Tony didn't like it when Gibbs behaved out of the norm. It was usually the signal that something pretty major was going to happen.

So when that Friday afternoon Gibbs barked "DiNozzo, with me!" and led the way into the elevator, quite frankly, Tony was worried. 

As soon as the switch was flipped, Tony voiced his worry.

"What is it, Boss? Should we prepare for the worst? Batten down the hatches? Go to battle stations?"

"DiNozzo…"

"I thought we closed the case, Boss. Is your gut telling you there's something more going on? Should we do more research?"

"Tony…"

"Should I get security details for the team, Boss? Are they in danger? Because you've been acting weird, and you mostly only do that when you're worried about the team, so shall I make arrangements to protect them? Can you tell me?"

Gibbs studied Tony for a moment.

"Them, Tony?"

Tony reached for his phone, ready to make the call. Gibbs stopped him.

"Protect them? Are you not part of the team too, Tony?"

Tony shrugged.

"I can take care of myself, Gibbs. Always have."

Gibbs sighed, and filed this away for later contemplation. 

"Tony…"

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Nothing to worry about. Just wanted to ask you to come over for dinner tonight."

"Oh. Oh! Oh… Ehmm, sure! What do you want me to pick up for dinner?"

"Nothing, Tony."

"Pizza? Chinese? Beers?"

"Nothing, Tony. Just come over. Around seven?"

"Ooookay…"

"Yes or no, Tony."

Tony swallowed, then straightened his back.

"Yes, Gibbs."

"Good."

When Gibbs turned around to flip the switch to start the elevator up again, he didn't notice the extremely worried look Tony gave him. 

 

Tony managed to get through the rest of the afternoon, drive home and shower without too much trouble, but when he was standing in front of his wardrobe trying to decide what to wear, he was getting worried again. Normally, he would just pull on a pair of jeans and a shirt when he went to Gibbs' place, but this felt different. Gibbs had been different. And Tony just didn't know why. Deciding he needed at least the semblance of normalcy, he selected his favorite pair of jeans, soft from wash and wear, and a nice black button down shirt, and then he was on his way.

When Tony came into the house, Gibbs wasn't in the basement. Gibbs wasn't wearing sweats. Gibbs wasn't covered in sawdust. In all honesty, Tony's worry flared to epic proportions.

 

"Boss?"

"Hey, Tony. Wine?"

Gibbs, casually dressed in jeans and a button down shirt, moved from the fireplace to the coffee table, and picked up the bottle of wine and one of the two glasses that were waiting there, holding them out to Tony.

"Sure, Gibbs."

Gibbs poured and handed Tony the glass, then poured for himself as well. They each took a sip, then Gibbs ushered Tony onto the couch.

"Sit, Tony. I'll go check on dinner."

Completely bewildered, Tony dropped down onto the couch and sipped his wine. He heard Gibbs rummaging around in the kitchen, and his mind was still spinning when Gibbs returned and sat down next to him, picking up his own glass again and sipping at it.

"Thanks for coming, Tony."

Tony suppressed a worried squeak.

"What's going on, Gibbs? What is this?"

Gibbs just looked at him, and actually smiled. Tony's worry increased.

 

Dinner was simple but delicious and wine flowed freely, and Tony found himself having a good time despite his worry. Gibbs didn't say much, but the things he did say were actually mostly entertaining, and Tony had never been one to let a silence go unfilled, so between them they managed to have a pleasant dinner. Afterwards, they settled on the couch again, fire going in the fireplace and in Tony's belly. When Gibbs casually reached out and started playing with the soft, short hairs at the back of Tony's neck, Tony swallowed.

"Gibbs?"

"Hmmm?"

"Is this… is this a… date?"

"I must be really rusty if you have to ask."

"No! No, it's… great. Just… unexpected. Ehmm… why?"

"I've always liked being with you, Tony. More than you know, I guess."

"Gibbs…"

"What you said, about that Adam-guy…"

"Gibbs, please…"

"That's how you feel about me? What you said… and what you didn't say?"

Tony looked at Gibbs pleadingly. 

"Took me a while, Tony. But when I understood, I… I couldn't believe it, and I..."

"Jethro…"

"Please, Tony, let me finish."

"No, Jethro, I…"

"Tony, I need to…"

"Gibbs! Shut up!"

Tony had put down his glass of wine and moved to straddle Gibbs. Breathless, Gibbs stared at him for a moment, then quirked his lips.

"Telling a 'functional mute' to shut up, Tony?"

"Right now, yeah! You only need to answer one question right now."

Brushing his fingers through Tony's hair, staring into his eyes, Gibbs saw everything he wanted to see there.

"What's the question, Anthony?"

Tony grinned a wicked grin.

"Do you put out on a first date?"

The quirk of Gibbs' lips turned into a full-blown smile.

"We've been dating for years, Tony."

Groaning with frustration, Tony took Gibbs' face between his hands, staring at him intently.

"Do…you…put…out…on…a…first…date?"

"With you? Hell, yeah."

Gibbs didn't have time to drag in another breath before Tony's lips were on his, devouring him whole. Tony put his life and soul into the kiss, still half afraid this was the only chance he would get, and he needed to make this count. When Gibbs moaned against his lips and pushed his hips up to meet Tony's, Tony could have wept with elation. Instead, he focused on the taste and feel of Gibbs' mouth, Gibbs' body under his fingertips, Gibbs' scent suffusing his senses. At last Tony pulled back.

"Jethro…"

Gibbs had to blink a few times to get his vision to focus again.

"Tony…?"

"When it's you, I'll put out on a first date too."

Breathing deeply, Gibbs gathered enough air for a short but soft bark.

"DiNozzo! Get your ass upstairs!"

For just a single second Tony looked confused, but then he grinned, and he practically leapt off Gibbs' lap and ran up the stairs, Gibbs following in anticipation.

 

When Gibbs reached the bedroom, he swallowed harshly. Tony was standing next to the bed, his shirt open and untucked, shoes and socks off, but now Tony was hesitant. Inwardly shaking his head, Gibbs quickly crossed the room to stand in front of Tony, cupped the back of his head and drew him into his arms.

"Tony… Never doubt me. Not on this. I want you. I need you."

He felt Tony shiver in his arms for a few moments, then the younger man pulled back. Expecting Tony to start talking, Gibbs was surprised but pleased when instead, Tony reached out and slowly started unbuttoning Gibbs' shirt, letting his fingers linger over the skin he uncovered. When the shirt was fully open, Tony slowly slid it off Gibbs' shoulders and took the time to hang it over the chair in the corner, quickly taking off his own shirt and hanging it over the chair as well.

When he returned to Gibbs, Tony let his fingers trace over the silver-haired chest almost reverently, following the scars he found, letting his fingers linger, his eyes glued to every inch of skin his fingertips touched. Gibbs was starting to feel a little uncomfortable and self-conscious, and it resounded in his groan. Tony looked up, catching his eyes, again a pleading look on his face.

"Jethro… Please just let me memorize this, let me keep this so I can remember…"

For a moment, Gibbs was confused, but then he understood. He drew Tony to him again, holding him close, kissing the side of Tony's neck before he spoke.

"This is just the beginning, Tony, not the end. We're going to have so many more moments like this, you won't have to remember, you can feel and experience any time you want. Any time."

Tony let his head hang for just a few seconds before he looked up. Gibbs saw hope and desire in his eyes, and his own passion was fired by it, but he knew he needed to use his words first.

"Tony… What you said… I'm sorry."

Gibbs forced himself to ignore the soft gasp from Tony.

"I'm sorry that I didn't know sooner. Tony, how I treated you… when I knew how I felt about you, how you felt about me… Tony…"

Tony grinned, and managed to get the words out in the few moments it took him to pull Gibbs against him and smother his words with another kiss.

"Oh, shut up, Jethro."

Seconds later, they were both naked on the bed and writhing against each other. Gibbs' hands were everywhere, driving Tony crazy with want, and Tony's lips fastened on any bit of skin they could find, making Gibbs insane with desire.

"Tony, I…"

"Have me, Jethro."

Looking down at his soon to be lover and swallowing at the complete trust and surrender Tony was giving him, Gibbs couldn't help but grin when Tony spoke his next words.

"NOW, Gibbs. Now!"

That was his Tony. Impatient, demanding, giving everything. Always giving. Always giving to Gibbs.

When Gibbs pushed into him, Tony sighed and tightened his legs around Gibbs' waist, his arms around Gibbs' shoulders. When Gibbs stared down at Tony, Tony smiled up at him and gave him a soft kiss.

"I've got you, Jethro. I've got you."

And no matter what happened next, Gibbs knew that it was true. Tony had him, always and every way, and he trusted without doubt that Tony would keep him.


End file.
